Tuesday, October 28, 2008


Okay so last year around this time I some how got into a funk. And by funk I mean I was grumpy, and just generally mad at everyone and everything, and I have no idea why. Whats more is it's back this year and I have no idea why. I mean two years in a row. Seriously? Well it needs to end here. For the most part. I will be a bit more upity. God help me. I'm going to have a good day. Oh and I need to talkk to Penguin Publishing. It's going to happen.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Six a.m. rambling

Is there a single moment in a person's life where they think to themselves "So this is being an adult?" I mean sure we all do it in hind sight, but does any one ever realize that in the very moment it happens? I'm sitting here in my cramped tiny shoebox of an apartment at six o'clock in the morning sipping my tea and letting Dave Matthews sing me into another morning. I've been paying my own bills for eight months now. Eleven hundred miles away from home at that. But yet this is the first time I think I can really see myself as an adult

    When I was younger, twenty used to mean something. At the age of twelve I remember thinking that twelve meant maturity and grown up wisdom. Yet here I am, and not all that sure that I know much more than I did then. I mean sure I know more about sex and all of that, but that's just assumable (is that a word)

    I'm on my second cup of tea for the morning, I'll probably go through a third to be honest. I've always secretly wished I could like coffee, but just never cared much for it. So when my teacher made me producer of our little game show—whether or not we ever really shoot it—and I threatened to cut a guys face off, I figured it was time to find a vice. Thus the tea. I do feel like it somehow makes me grown up. Stumbling into the kitchen—my eyes not even open yet—and flipping the stove on, so the water can boil. Then I make my tea and just stare off into space for about twenty minutes.

    I'm just now starting to feel like a grown up. It's like this whole time I'm waiting for my mom to show up and nail me on something. Like when I creep into my own apartment at three in the morning, I somehow hope my mom doesn't find out. Not too sure why. Maybe I know I shouldn't be out at three in the morning.

    After this cup of tea, I should probably go fix my hair, or do something productive. There's a pile of dishes in the sink that could use some of my attention. Same way to the pile of shoes in the middle of my room.